Now Then
by arualms
Summary: After the funeral, Summer's dreams are haunted by Marissa. Things slowly spiral out of control for Summer and she needs help.


AN: This was written for emmyniem for the third annual OC sentence challenge. I don't usually write Summer, but tried to fullfill the request.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Josh still refuses to sell the show to me. So I still don't own anything of interest.

**Now / Then**

"Welcome, Miss Roberts. Since your father is still talking to the director, how about we use the time until you say good- bye in a useful way? Would you like me to show you around, explain to you where everything is and what you need to keep in mind?"

"I guess I'll have to hear it eventually anyway, so sure, why not now."

"Okay then. Well, you've already seen the lobby. If you follow this corridor, you reach the dining area. Everyone has breakfast, lunch and dinner there. You can learn the exact times from the table that's put up in your room. A weekly menu will be there as well. The first and second floors are all single bedrooms. Yours is number 213. The third floor houses the offices. You're welcome to spend time in the garden or the indoor pool in the basement if you want…Miss Roberts? Miss Roberts?"

"What? Sorry, I guess I was distracted for a minute."

"Are you alright? You look rather pale."

"I'm…Yes, everything's ok. Can you show me my room now?"

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_Marissa's ghost haunts Summer in her dreams. _

_The first time it happens is the night after the funeral, and Summer wakes up wanting to scream but finding there is no breath left in her lungs. Taking in huge gulps of air, she realizes that she is covered in cold sweat, her limbs heavy with an exhaustion that she has no explanation for. It takes almost an hour for her breathing to go back to normal, and even then she is still shivering. She wishes she could remember what she dreamed, but the only part of her nightmare that stayed with her into consciousness is the feel of long hair between her fingertips and the echo of her best friend's laughter. _

_(don't think about never hearing it again)_

_She spends the next day trying not to break down and cry every five minutes, and it keeps her too busy to really think about the night before. It isn't until she stumbles into bed that evening, exhausted from a whole day lived with the knowledge that Marissa is dead, that she remembers. Summer doesn't believe she can take any more, certainly not trying to keep it together after yet another restless night, so she quickly makes her way into the bathroom and takes out the container of sleeping pills that is still there, even though the stepmonster is long gone. _

_(don't think about someone else who once took the stepmonster's pills) _

_She swallows them dry, even the effort of getting a glass of water seeming too much to handle when her bones are filled with lead, and goes back to bed._

_Summer actually sleeps through the night, but later she isn't sure if that is a good thing. It makes it impossible to escape the dreams by waking up._

_Summer and Marissa are sitting on Summer's bed, comfortable in short sweats and T-shirts. Sleep-over outfits. The Valley is on, but neither one of them is really watching. Summer leans back a little, allowing her friend more room to maneuver the brush around before once more bringing it down on her head, carefully pulling it through the dark tresses. _

"_I missed this. Just you and me." Marissa sounds calm, but there is an underlying edge that Summer can't quite place. She isn't sure she wants to know where it comes from, so she simply nods. She missed it too._

_The brush gets stuck in her hair, and she yelps in pain, sitting up quickly._

"_My turn" she says to avoid further hair-loss, taking the wooden handle out of Marissa's hand and turning around to face her._

_The brush falls from her hand as her fingers go limp, her body suddenly rigid and she can hear someone scream. It takes a while before she realizes that she is the one making the noise, but even then it doesn't really register. _

_Nothing does, other than the sight of Marissa sitting there, smiling at her as if there is nothing weird about the blood running down the side of her face, dripping onto the pink bed spread, slowly pooling around Marissa's body. _

"_It's nice that we finally have time for each other again" Marissa says, and how can she just sit there as if everything is normal? Doesn't she see? Can't she hear Summer scream?_

_Summer pushes herself off from the bed and stumbles away from the other girl. _

_(don't think about why your hand is suddenly sticky)_

_She is still screaming, even though there can't possibly be any air left._

_She watches, can't look away, as Marissa bends over to pick up the discarded brush, stares as the girl pulls it through her hair, coating every single hair in red._

_Summer stays there, pressed against the wall, unable to do anything but stare and scream while the blood continues to drip, first onto the bed cover and then, when Marissa is surrounded by red, onto the floor. There is so much of it- so much- and Summer can do nothing but keep as far away as possible, hoping against hope that the red lake that is being created on the ground won't reach her._

_When she finally does wake up, she can still feel the texture of the wallpaper against her bare arms, and her throat is dry. She rushes into the bathroom and spends the next forty minutes in the shower, rubbing her skin to get rid of blood stains she knows aren't really there. When she finally gets out, her skin is raw, but she still doesn't feel clean._

_Her dad looks at her with worry in his eyes when she finally comes down for breakfast, asking if there is anything he can do._

_(don't think about how a year ago, he wouldn't have had to ask, because he would have been with her 24/7, instead of driving Julie to an emergency meeting with some shrink friend of his)_

_She tells him she is ok, not good but managing, and she has to go if she doesn't want to be late for her appointment. He nods, relief evident in his face at the fact that she can take care of herself. Summer is out of the house five minutes later, on her way to her own emergency meeting. _

_An hour and a half later, when she comes back, he is nowhere to be found, so she doesn't have to handle any questions about her new hair cut._

_The day is still far from being over and since staying in her room is pretty much out of the question for Summer at the moment, she reluctantly makes her way over to the Cohens._

_She doesn't want to be there, not really, because while Seth is surprisingly good at being the shoulder to cry on, Seth is also Ryan's best friend/ pseudo brother, and Summer still has no idea how to deal with the boy from Chino. He reminds her of too many things she is desperately trying to forget._

_When she arrives at the Cohens' place, the relief at seeing the Rover gone is almost overwhelming. She remembers Seth telling her the night before that his parents were planning to both come with Ryan somewhere, a doctor, a shrink or maybe the police station. Summer doesn't really care, not right now, as long as it means she doesn't have to look at him. It's not as if she blames him;, she just can't stand looking at him._

_She enters the building ( these people really never close their door, and she allows herself a moment to ponder the significance of that fact, other than an increased risk of burglary) and wants to head for the stairs when Cohen comes into the living room from the other direction. He simply pulls her onto the couch and into his arms, and she thinks that maybe there actually are one or two good reasons why she loves him. _

_When she wakes up later to the smell of fresh hot chocolate, she amends it to three. His eyes telling her that he knows it doesn't really help are the best part. She's not used to Cohen employing non-verbal means of communication, but she thinks she might learn to like it._

_Seth drives her home before his parents and Ryan come back from wherever they went, hugging her good- bye with a hushed "Call me whenever you need to". She doesn't answer, because honestly she knows that, if she felt like she could actually talk (to him, to anyone), she wouldn't need permission. Still, she appreciates the gesture and hugs him a little tighter, the muffled "See you tomorrow" lost somewhere between his hideous sweater and the lump lodged firmly in her throat._

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"Hello, Miss Roberts. I am Dr. Lisa Harisson. During your stay here, I will be your therapist."

"Hi. I would say 'nice to meet you', but since I really don't want to be here, that would be kind of a lie."

"How are you feeling today?"

"If I say great, are going to let me go home?"

"Miss Roberts, you came here because you wanted to. I realize that you are not feeling comfortable yet, but I am sure you understand that you are here…"

"For my own good? Yeah, I get it. Doesn't mean I have to be, like, happy about it."

"Is there anything that could be done to make you feel more comfortable?"

"Now that you mention it, the lobby could really use some home improvement. I mean, grey and red? Really not very stylish."

"Miss Roberts…"

"I know. Sorry, I guess I really have to get used to this. I never thought I would turn into a nutjob."

"Is that what you are?"

"You talked to my dad for hours. I'm sure he explained exactly why I'm here. There's no need to pretend that I'm not crazy."

"I am not pretending anything…You don't believe me, do you?"

"You're doing your job. I'm sure you're not allowed to tell your patients that they are nuts."

"Miss Roberts, you are not nuts, or crazy. But from what I have learned so far, I know that you are in a great amount of pain, and that this pain is doing things to you that you don't understand and can not control. And I think I might be able to help you with that. If you let me."

"What if I don't?"

"I can't force you to accept my help. But, look at it this way: talking to me probably can't make things worse, right?"

"You've never been to Newport, have you? It's like, one of the first things you learn there. Things can always get worse."

"Really? Would you be willing to tell me something about that? About how things always get worse?"

"If I do, is it going to prove to you that I am pathologically pessimistic or something?"

"Miss Roberts, I'm not trying to trap or ambush you. That's not what we are here for. But if I want to be able to help you, I need to know more about you. Telling me about your hometown and your life there might be a good start. You don't seem ready to talk about the more recent events yet, so choosing a safer topic might allow you to get comfortable with being here and talking to me. So, why not tell me something about Newport?"

"I'm sure they have a fancy website somewhere. Or at least something they would believe to be stylish. You could do some research."

"You don't want to talk about it? Why?"

"Does there have to be a reason? Maybe I just don't want to."

"Maybe."

"Are you going to sit there, staring all creepy and not saying a damn thing all the time. Because I don't think my dad would be happy, knowing he is paying a shitload of money to someone who doesn't do anything."

"Well, you said you didn't want to talk about Newport. Would you like to propose another topic?"

"Somehow, I don't think you read enough Vogue to keep up in a serious fashion debate. Do you watch The Valley?"

"My daughter does. She is kind of obsessed with the guy who plays the broody kid. Do you like him, too?"

"Not really. I mean, he's hot, but I stopped the fangirl thing after I met Grady Bridges."

"You actually met him? I bet that was exciting."

"Well, at first it was. But then he turned out to be this egomaniacal idiot, and Cohen got all jealous and…"

"Why are you stopping?"

"I…I don't really want to talk about Cohen."

"Why not? Sounded like an interesting story. Though it would probably be even more interesting if I knew who this Cohen is."

"My boyfriend. I mean, he was my boyfriend. He's my ex now. Can we drop it? I'm not here to wallow in teenage post-break-up angst. That's just so cliché."

"Did you wallow after he broke up with you?"

"He? He didn't break up with me."

"You ended your relationship?"

"Yes. Why the hell did you think he dumped me?"

"Well, the expression on your face when you insisted you didn't want to wallow…you looked as if thinking about him hurt you, and as if you missed him. In my experience, those are emotions usually expressed by the one who didn't initiate the break up."

"I don't miss…I don't need Cohen. My life is complicated enough without his constant screw ups."

"Is that why you broke up with him? Because he screwed up too much?"

…..

"Miss Roberts?"

"Can you drop the formalities? Makes me feel like I am back in high…in class. I do have a first name, you know."

"Very well. But Summer, you still haven't answered my question. Did you break up with your ex-boyfriend because he screwed up too much? Or was there another reason? And when did you end the relationship?"

"It's…complicated. There was just so much going on. I couldn't deal with him on top of all that."

"So, the break-up happened rather recently?"

"Yes. I mean honestly, how the hell was I supposed to handle Cohen? I couldn't…I can't even handle myself."

"I see. But you are here to change that, right? Remember; I will do everything I can to help you regain control of your life - at least to the extent to which that is possible...Well, I'm afraid our time is actually up for today, so we will have to continue this tomorrow."

"Great. I can't wait."

"Summer, I understand that you would rather be anywhere but here. I would probably feel the same way, were I in your position. But believe me, things can get better. Your coming here was the first step to make that happen."

"I…I know that. In theory, at least. But it doesn't change the fact that it just feels wrong. I guess I never pictured myself ending up in an asyl…psychiatry."

"It may not feel that way right now, but it is actually a big step to know, at least in theory, that you need help. Admitting that doesn't make you weak. And we will work on the "wrong" feeling later. I hope you'll have a good first night here. I'll see you tomorrow morning."

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_Summer can feel the sun burning on her skin and she hopes that she put on enough sunscreen, because she really doesn't want to need a face lift any time in the near future. Not to mention that getting burned hurts._

_The warmth of the sand beneath her is comfortable and for a moment, she debates whether she wants to open her eyes at all._

_The slightly impatient "Sum', come on!" makes her turn her head towards the source, blinking against the glare of the bright sun. Marissa is holding her hand out and she allows her to pull her off the ground._

"_It's way to hot to stay here without ice cream." she insists, and she's right, so Summer follows her after making sure that her bikini top did not rearrange itself while she was tanning._

_Five minutes later, they are strolling along the water, flip flops left behind with their towels, the water brushing against their feet offering a welcome way to cool down._

"_I can't belief we went without this for so long. I mean, didn't we use to do this all the time?"_

_Marissa sounds incredulous and Summer can't help but laugh at the way her nose crinkles in confusion._

"_We were kind of busy." She's smiling, but at the same time she thinks that Marissa is right, and they really should have come here sooner. She had forgotten how relaxing the beach could be._

"_Let's try not to be so busy anymore, ok?"_

_Marissa smiles at her in response and nods._

_Summer can see their towels further up and reluctantly leaves the water behind, propelled forward by the knowledge that a cold diet coke is waiting in the cooler._

_Her feet sink into the sand and it sticks to her wet legs. She turns to Marissa to complain about the fact that people have yet to come up with a way to avoid this, but the sight that greets her makes the words stuck in her throat._

_Marissa is standing there, looking at her, smiling as if nothing is wrong. As if the water she is standing in isn't burning, flames licking up her legs, an ocean of fire as far as Summer's eyes can see._

_She wants to run to her friend, pull her away from the roaring mass of red, but she can't seem to move,_ _unable to push against the wall of scorching heat that emanates from the previously cooling ocean. She opens her mouth to at least scream a warning, but no sound escapes._

_Marissa's hair catches fire._

_When Summer wakes up, she can still smell the mixture of salt and smoke. She is shivering even though she could swear that it is incredibly hot in her room. _

_(don't think about the room next door)_

_She decides that getting up isn't an option today, and her father agrees to let her eat in bed. It hasn't even been a week; he doesn't expect her to function properly yet._

_Seth calls and asks if she wants him to come over, but she doesn't believe he would be able to control his constant need to babble for another day and since listening to him is not something she believes herself capable of today, she declines. It's probably better that way. No opportunity for him to say something incredibly wrong means no need for her to hit him. She doesn't think she has the energy for that at the moment._

_(don't think about why)_

_She thinks she should be grateful that the next nights don't bring new nightmares, but having the same ones over and over again isn't really all that great, either, especially because knowing what is going to happen doesn't make it hurt less, doesn't even allow her to change anything. Seth is hurt when she doesn't want to come to his house anymore, she can tell, but you can see the ocean from practically every window of his house, and she makes it a point to stay as far away from the sea as possible._

_(don't think about Newport being surrounded by it)_

_After the first night without a nightmare, she wakes up and is sure that she must still be dreaming, because she hasn't had a quiet night since the funeral. But she really is awake, and she allows herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, this is it, it's over and things can get back to normal._

_(don't think about things never being normal again)_

_When she enters the kitchen and is greeted by the sight of Marissa sitting at the counter, looking up as soon as she comes in and smiling at her, she realizes she shouldn't have gotten her hopes up._

_When Marissa tells her to hurry up, because they've got to get going if they want to spend the whole day at the shopping center, she realizes that maybe the nightmares weren't the worst. But Marissa tilts her head, tells her to "come on!" and she goes. She needs new shoes anyway._

_The mall is crowded but they have been coming here regularly since they were ten, so Summer finds her way easily through the masses of people. She tries to convince herself that she is here because she wants to be, because ignoring Marissa will make her go away and shopping is a good distraction, but when Marissa suggests that she should try on a new bikini, she does, even though her fingers are shaking._

_She looks fabulous in it. _

_(don't think about not really needing it, since the beach is not an option)_

_When they come home (don't, don't think about it as if she is really there), her dad smiles at her, pleased that she went out and did something normal. Summer forces herself to smile back and is proud that she doesn't burst into tears until she is safely in her bedroom._

_Marissa asks her what is wrong, and she cries even harder._

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"Good morning Summer."

"Morning, Doc."

"Did you sleep well?"

"Well, the beds here aren't nearly as comfortable as my own, but…I guess I slept okay. I didn't wake up in the middle of the night, at least."

"So the medication helped? That's great. Sleeping through the night is definitely a good sign. What about your nightmares? Any of those last night?"

"That's it? No more playing nice, getting to know you; we jump right into the fire?"

"If you want to get better, you are going to have to talk about it eventually. The sooner you start, the more we can accomplish while you are here. So, did you have nightmares about Marissa again?"

"I…not really nightmares. More like memories. You know, of stuff we used to do together."

"What kind of stuff? The memories this night, what were they of?"

"School. Just, sitting in the cafeteria, gossiping. Nothing spectacular."

"But dreaming about it bothered you?"

"Yeah. It's- the memories are normal, but they don't really feel that way. It feels fake, somehow. And really, I just- I want to get better. Dreaming about her all the time isn't the worst, but it's part of the problem."

"When you say that the memories feel fake, what exactly do you mean?"

"I…I am glad they aren't nightmares any longer. No blood, no burning water, that's good. But now, when I dream about her, everything seems to be so freaking normal. And that feels fake, because I know nothing is normal. Things…Marissa and I, we won't ever have normal again. We won't ever have anything again, and I don't …"

"Would you like a tissue?"

"I…no, thanks. I'm sorry; I don't usually bawl my eyes out in front of people I don't even know."

"Summer, there is absolutely no need to apologize. You are not here to make a good impression, you are here because you need help and I might be able to give you that help. And there is absolutely nothing wrong or embarrassing about crying. You lost your oldest and best friend; I would be worried if you didn't react this way."

"Yeah well, crying may be normal. The rest definitely isn't."

"Do you think you could tell me about that "rest"? You mentioned blood and fire in your nightmares. Why do you think it is there?"

"Aren't you supposed to tell me that?"

"I have learned that it is much better to let people understand themselves than to tell them what to think. I can help you, but I wouldn't want to insult your intelligence by insinuating I am more capable of understanding your dreams than you are yourself."

"I guess- blood and fire is somehow what I imagine when I think about the accident. I mean, I know that the car…"

"I realize this is incredibly painful for you, but even if it doesn't seem that way right now, I can tell you that talking about it, getting a better understanding of what is going through your mind really does help."

"I'd prefer a way to get better that isn't this difficult. Can't you just give me some more pills to make her…make everything go away?"

"I'm afraid not. We are going to keep working on the right medication, of course, but I don't think that alone will be enough. You want to be able to function without medication again some day, don't you?"

"Of course. It's just…I want someone to end this whole thing. Be healthy and never have to think about it again, you know?"

"I'm not sure about the "never think about it again"-part, but lets work some more on the getting healthy again. A couple moments ago, you said you wanted someone to make her go away. I assume you mean Marissa?"

"Yeah. I'm crazy, but not yet crazy enough to have hallucinations of several people at the same time."

"I would tell you again that you are not crazy, but I am afraid that would be futile, so I'll skip that topic for now. Marissa- are you seeing her at the moment?"

"No. But…she was there this morning during breakfast."

"What did she do?"

"Doc, she didn't do anything. She's not really here, I mean…"

"Well, I could have asked you what you saw her doing, but talking about her like that would complicate the conversation unnecessarily. Besides, I just want to hear what happened from your perspective. And to you, she seems very real, right?"

"Yeah. I mean, I know that she can't really be here, I know that she's…she's dead. But still, when I see her…it's Coop. And I hate it. I hate that knowing she is gone doesn't make me stop seeing her. It isn't even enough to make me stop listening to her."

"Did she tell you something this morning?"

"She doesn't like it here. She thought we should go shopping instead."

"I bet a huge part of you would prefer that, too."

"I've never before been to San Diego before. I really should check out the local stores…Seriously though, it makes me so mad. That I even thought about what she said. How can I know that I am imagining things, and still not be able to stop it?"

"Summer, knowing that what you are seeing isn't real is very important, as is acknowledging that fact. But I'm afraid that, until you figure out why you are seeing her, and can do something about that, you are not going to feel better, even if the medication does stop the actual hallucinations."

"And that's what we're here for, right? Figuring out why?"

"Yes. If you think you are up for it, I would like you to tell me with as much detail as possible, about your nightmares and all the instances in which you saw Marissa. Let's start with the first nightmare, and the work our way through, ok?"

"I don't actually remember the first one. Only waking up, knowing I had had a really bad dream. And, it was the night after the funeral, so I was pretty sure that the nightmare had something to do with what had happened to Marissa. But the actual dream, I don't remember."

"That's ok. Tell me what you do remember."

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_When she wakes up the next morning, it takes a while for her to remember what happened the night before, and she is scared to open her eyes. Summer doesn't think that going crazy is really a healthy response to everything._

_I the end, her growling stomach forces her out of bed and she cautiously makes her way downstairs. Marissa wasn't in her room when she woke up, but after the previous morning, she doesn't allow herself to hope that it means she is gone._

_(don't think about not wanting her to be gone, she's not real)_

_Marissa isn't in the kitchen either, and Summer breathes a little easier. Maybe yesterday was a one time thing and she hasn't completely lost it yet. She actually manages to eat a normal breakfast and enjoys the way her father smiles at her, relief palpable in his face. He leaves to bring a tray up for Julie and Summer considers calling Seth, maybe meeting him for lunch later. If she is no longer hallucinating, then there is nothing she has to keep from him._

_(don't think about yesterday)_

_Kaitlin interrupts her train of thought, rushing in to grab a drink from the fridge. Summer actually manages to wish her a good morning, but gets no reaction._

"_She's so rude!" Marissa comments and Summer just wants to run away._

_Instead, she finds herself turning around slowly. The sight of Marissa leaning against the doorframe greets her._

"_I was afraid you decided to sleep in. I know we didn't make plans, but I thought we could go to the spa? You know, the actual spa, not the rehab clinic."_

_Summer just stares at her, because this isn't supposed to happen, she's not supposed to be the crazy one, that's Oliver, and why, why is this happening?_

"_Come on, Sum, what's wrong? You look a little stressed."_

_Summer can't suppress a laugh at that, a helpless chuckle escaping her. She is seeing dead people – well, one dead person- and her hallucination is asking her what's wrong. This is ridiculous._

_Marissa keeps looking at her expectantly, but Summer is not that crazy, she's not going to talk to her. Summer didn't even talk to an imaginary friend in kindergarten; she's not going to start now._

_(don't think about who was you reason for not needing imaginary friends)_

_It seems as if Marissa doesn't want to wait for an answer forever, because she shrugs and insists that if she doesn't want to talk, they should get going._

_Summer wants to ignore her, she really does, but she also really needs a manicure._

_Three hours later, when she gets home and her dad greets her with the announcement that lunch is ready and they are all going to eat together, she can see the relief in his face, relief that Summer is trying to get back to normal, relief that Julie has actually left the room, and Summer tells herself that she doesn't want to destroy that by telling him that his only daughter should be shipped of to the loony bin _

_She forces herself not to look at Marissa while they eat, which is surprisingly easy since none of them look at the chair that used to be hers and no one asks her why she looks anywhere else but there._

_She can't suppress a flinch when Julie tells her she likes the nail polish. (don't think about why her voice is so weak) She doesn't tell her that Marissa insisted dark pink was perfect for Summer- both the person and the season._

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"Hello Summer. How was lunch?"

"Ok. I mean, the food wouldn't win any prizes, but for hospital food, it's pretty decent."

"You seem to be feeling a little better than you did at the end of the morning session."

"Well, I spent an hour detailing my freaky nightmares to you. Guess it can only get better after that."

"You're probably right. Still, it is good to see that you recovered a little. I understand that our last talk must have been exhausting."

"You know, I never used to get tired of talking."

"I suspect the topics involved weren't always as serious and painful, were they?"

"No. Before this, the worst thing that ever happened to me was Cohen being a stupid little bastard, running away to Portland when his boyfriend took of for Chino."

"I'm sorry, did you just say boyfriend?"

"I was kidding. Though I'm pretty sure Cohen used to have a crush on Atwood when he first came to Newport."

"Atwood? That's Ryan, right? Marissa's boyfriend? The one who was in the car with her?"

"Yeah. I mean, he wasn't her boyfriend at the time, they had been broken up for some time. He's Cohen's best friend. Also, kind of his brother, since the Cohens took him in."

"Sounds like there are a lot of interesting relationships between your friends. But as interesting as that is, I think I'd prefer talking about you. You said that up to the accident, your boyfriend was the worst thing that ever happened to you? I would have thought your parents' divorce and your mother's absence were pretty hard on you, too."

"How do you…no, wait. When you and the director talked to my dad, you grilled him about my family, right?"

"It is always good to get a fairly detailed account of a patient's background. That includes family. Not to bother you, but I would really be interested in answer from you. Why didn't you include your parents' divorce?"

"I guess it's just been so long. I mean, it hurt a lot, but I learned to deal with it. My dad and I, we are really close, he helped a lot. He also made sure I saw a shrink every week for quite a while, so…it's just no longer on my mind all the time."

"I see. Well, how about we return to the topic we discussed before we broke for lunch. How long did you have the nightmares before you first saw Marissa while you were awake?"

"I'm not absolutely sure. I mean, it's not exactly something you mark down in your calendar, like: today, I got absolute proof that I am losing my mind, because I saw Marissa in the kitchen."

"Summer, I really wish you could stop talking so negatively about yourself. Making yourself feel bad for having these problems, telling yourself it means you're going crazy, will not help you at all."

"I can't help it, ok. Seeing people who are…who aren't really there- that's definitely a sign of craziness for me. And yes, I know you want me to accept that I am not a nutjob, that I just have a problem, but knowing that doesn't keep me from feeling that way. Now, can we please return to what we were talking about before? This is hard enough without constantly jumping back and forth between topics."

"Fine. Tell me about the first time you saw Marissa. Where you were, what she was doing, did she say anything? How did you feel?"

"She was just waiting for me in the kitchen one morning. Told me it was about time I got out of bed and that we were supposed to go shopping. I'm not sure I remember how I felt. Shocked, definitely, but other than that…I don't know how to describe it."

"That's ok. Take your time."

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_Marissa doesn't leave, and Summer gets used to it. She doesn't want to, but it's far to easy to act as if nothing is wrong, because really, she always liked to go shopping, and enjoy a good day of pampering at the spa. Really, it's not as if she is doing anything that she wouldn't have done before. She would like it if pretending was as easy when it comes to herself._

_The problem is that Summer knows very well that Marissa isn't really there. She knows, understands that seeing her is definite proof of the fact that she has completely lost it, but even after telling herself all this for an hour, she still nods when Marissa asks if she wants to go to the diner with her._

_Knowing it isn't real doesn't keep it from feeling good to have her best friend back, spending time with her the way they used to before Chino and Cohen, and Summer prefers this feeling to what was before. The nightmares have stopped._

_(don't think about life being the nightmare now)_

_Marissa is never there when Seth comes to visit, which he does because she can't stall him forever. Usually, when someone else is in the room, she ignores them, or waits for Summer to finish talking until asking her if they can go into another room. When Seth is there, she leaves._

_Summer doesn't know whether to be grateful or not. She doesn't think she could really talk to Seth with Marissa right there, she already feels bad enough not telling him about Marissa, one more person she is lying to, pretending to be grieving but slowly getting better when really, it is obviously getting worse. But she also doesn't want Marissa to leave. _

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"Good morning Summer. I hope you're feeling a little better today."

"I'm not sure if I can tell the difference anymore. Though I'm not sure if that's because things aren't changing, or because your shiny drugs are keeping me all numb and cozy."

"The medication should not have that kind of negative effect, but we can of course have another look at the dosage and see if we need to adjust it. I am sorry you are not feeling better. Did you have another nightmare or dream? Or did you see Marissa again?"

"No. I…that's what I don't understand. The stuff you've been giving me really seems to work. I haven't seen her for at least three days, and I actually slept through the night. So why am I not feeling better? It's supposed to get better now!"

"Summer, I understand that you feel frustrated, but believe me when I say that you have already made so much progress. And that is not only due to the medication. You have shown amazing strength in telling me everything you did. Those nightmares and hallucinations are very difficult to deal with, and yet you managed to talk about them. That is great, something you can be proud of even if you don't feel like it at the moment. I am not going to lie to you, the coming weeks won't be easy, but I am very optimistic that you will eventually feel better."

"I still think I already should. I mean, the hallucinations are pretty much why I'm here. So without them, I should be ok again."

"You are smart enough to know that's not true. You are still trying to deal with a painful and traumatic event. You can't expect too much of you. These things take a lot of time."

"Guess that means we should get to it, huh?"

"Yes. Last time, we talked about how Marissa, whenever you see her, insists on doing things alone with you. You told me that these were usually things you used to do together very frequently before you started dating Seth and Marissa got together with Ryan. Do you think there is a reason for that particular fact?"

"I…I don't know. I mean, we still did those things after Chino, I mean Ryan, came to Newport. We just didn't do them as often."

"Did you miss it? Quality-girlfriends-time?"

"Not really, no. We still had enough time for each other, and…other things were just more important at that time, I guess."

"Was there ever a point in time when you wished Marissa and you were spending more time together?"

"I…"

"This is a painful topic, I understand. But I truly believe it would be good to have a closer look at it, gain a better understanding of your friendship. Please, try to answer."

"Yes. There was a time when…we were arguing and I was busy moping over Cohen. I should have tried harder to get her to talk."

"What were you arguing about?"

"Marissa, she was in a bad place. After her and Ryan broke up, she started hanging with…"

"Summer?"

"She started hanging out with Volchok."

"The man who caused the accident?"

"Yes. He…god, he was so bad for her, he totally didn't deserve her and I knew, I knew it and I tried to warn her and she didn't want to hear it. I, I should have tried harder to convince her, not allow her to push me away. I mean, if I had…"

"You think if you had done that, things might not have turned out the way they did?"

"I know they wouldn't. If I had managed to convince her that she was hurting herself, that she deserved better…"

"So it is your fault that Marissa died?"

"I didn't drive the car, I didn't cause the accident."

"I know you didn't. But if you stop rationalizing it, do you think it is your fault?"

"Yes. I could have prevented it, if I had been a better friend. I could have…"

"Summer, can you answer a question? Why do you think it was your responsibility to protect Marissa from herself?"

"I was her best friend. I should have at least tried."

"Because being her best friend made you responsible?"

"I…it isn't about responsibility. It's about the fact that I could have done something, but I didn't."

"I thought you were arguing because you did? The way you said it, I thought you had informed Marissa about your concerns and the reason for your fighting was her unwillingness to listen to you."

"I should have tried harder. Found another way to talk about it. I should have…"

"Here."

"Thanks. I'm really not much of a crier usually."

"As I told you before, there is no need to apologize or explain. Do you think we can continue?"

"Yeah. Better get it over with, right?"

"Can I ask you another question? You said you should have found another way. What do you think you could have done that would have made her listen to you?"

"I don't know. I don't know, but I should have figured it out. I knew she was freaking out, it was even worse than her two-month bender after Chino took off. I mean, even after all that crap with Trey, she didn't go over the edge like that. "

"That sounds as if Marissa had hard times before."

"That's like, the understatement of the century. I mean, her dad's a thief, her parents get divorced, her mom is a bitch and sleeps with her cheating ex, her friend almost blows his brains out, her boyfriend takes off to take care of his pregnant ex…"

"That would really constitute a very hard time. But what I would really like to know more about is the way she dealt with those things. You said she didn't react as badly as she did before her accident, but still she had a lot of trouble dealing?"

"Yes. I mean, she always drank too much, but that's normal for teenagers, right? And she was pretty rude with her mom, but she totally deserved it. And everyone skips school every now and then, right?"

"Summer, why are you making excuses for her? From the tone of your voice earlier, I would have deduced that you were rather upset with Marissa over they way she reacted to her problems. Why are you suddenly trying to explain everything away?"

"I don't…I just don't want to speak badly about her. I mean, she is dead. No one should speak badly of someone who is dead. And talking about her like that, it makes her seem like she was some horrible, out of control teenager."

"You don't want to think about her like that. I can understand that, but Summer, what I am trying to get at is this: it seems as if your friend had a lot of problems. Problems that you did not cause, problems that were not for you to solve. And it seems that she never really dealt with them in a healthy manner. Did you tell her back then that you were concerned?"

"About the drinking? Yes. The rest… I thought it was her decision if she wanted to go to school or not."

"Sounds very sensible. You were her friend, not her mother. How did you react when she started hanging out with Volchok?"

"I…I yelled at her. Told her what I though about him, and the way he made her act."

"But she didn't listen?"

"No."

"Just like she didn't listen before?"

"Stop making it sound like she was some self-destructive kid from a lifetime movie. She was my best friend! I should have found a way to make her listen."

"But Summer, the way you describe her, she was not very likely to listen to you, no matter what you said. I mean honestly, can you imagine any scenario of you convincing her to stay away from Volchok? Do you have any idea what you could have done to convince her?"

"No. But there should have…I should have found a way."

"Maybe you couldn't. Maybe there was nothing you could do. Maybe Marissa wanted to make her own choices and wouldn't let her best friend change her mind. Maybe no matter what you would have come up with, it would still have ended the way it did."

"Stop it. It was not Marissa's fault. It wasn't."

"I didn't say that it was. But Summer, you should allow yourself to think about the possibility that it wasn't your fault, either. What happened to your friend was horrible, but you did not cause the accident. You are not responsible for what happened to her. There was no way to predict what would happen, no way for you to prevent it. It is not your fault."

"But I…"

"You are not responsible. You aren't."

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_Seth keeps asking her to come over to his place. Summer wishes she could get mad at him for not understanding that she can't, but since she still hasn't explained anything to him, that would be pretty unfair. Instead, she decides she is allowed to be mad about the fact that he doesn't simply accept it. He knows she is going through a lot, even if he has no clue how much worse it actually is._

_They actually get into a fight, Seth insisting that they can watch "The Valley" DVD's at his place just as well as they can at her house. She wants to know why the hell they can't stay in her room._

_The explanation she gets isn't what she wanted to hear. Seth is supposed to be selfish, so she can get mad at him and yell and not think about the ocean surrounding the Cohens' house and Ryan sitting at the kitchen counter without Marissa sitting next to him. Because she is sure that Marissa won't come to the Cohens' with her._

_(don't think about how that should be a good thing)_

_But instead, Seth explains and she actually feels guilty. She hadn't even thought about that. _

_Ryan lost his love, Summer lost her best friend, Seth must stay strong for the two people he cares about most.Seth sounds so defeated while explaining that, telling her how he tried to split his time fairly, how it never felt like he was doing enough. He tells her about Ryan's refusal to leave the pool house other than for doctor's visits for the first two weeks, describes the struggle it was to at least make him come into the house. He can't bring Ryan to Summer's place because Julie would have a fit._

_When he asks her again why she can't come to his house, so he can be there for both her and Ryan at the same time, she feels like the worst person on earth for telling him he wouldn't get it and to just go be with Ryan if it's so important._

_It's the first time she says his best friend since the accident, and somehow he can tell that it bothers her. Seth asks if she blames Ryan._

_It's an easy out, an excuse for staying away and so she nods. She tells herself it doesn't matter that she is lying, that she knows Ryan didn't cause the accident, because it's a reason that Seth can understand even if he doesn't agree. It's better than having no reason at all, which would be the only other option since telling him about Marissa is impossible. _

_Seth gets mad, telling her what she already knows, that it was Volchok's fault and blaming Ryan isn't fair. When she doesn't react, he looks at her as if she just killed his puppy._

_She wishes the door wouldn't close behind him this quietly._

_Marissa is sitting on her bed when Summer turns back. She wants to go tan beside the pool._

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"Hello, Summer. How are you today?"

"Honestly? Frustrated. I mean, I keep thinking I should be getting better, just get over myself and pull myself together, but it doesn't work. I can't even stop being so damn irrational."

"What do you mean when you describe yourself that way?"

"I…I though about what we have been talking about for the past few sessions. How Marissa was her own person, and I am not responsible for her actions. And how I couldn't have forced her to behave more…to act in a healthier way."

"And?"

"That's the thing. Part of me knows you're right. If I think about it rationally, I know that I can't blame myself for what happened, but…"

"But you still feel guilty?"

"Yes. And that's so stupid, I mean knowing it's not really my fault should make me stop feeling that way, shouldn't it?"

"Summer, I'm afraid this might not be what you want to hear, but humans do not function rationally. It's great that you can accept, at least in theory, that your friend's death was not your fault. But unfortunately, it will take some time for you to actually believe it, and even longer to stop feeling guilty. It's absolutely normal for our emotions to take a while to catch up with our brain."

"That's it? I need time? That is the big solution?"

"It's an important part of it."

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_Summer calls it quits with Seth, because Marissa's death was enough to deal with. _

_At least, that's the explanation she gives him. Telling him on the phone makes it easier._

_She tries to convince herself that it's not a lie, not really, because she really can't deal with Seth, not when every time he is there a part of her wants to break down and tell him the truth that will no doubt result in her being locked away for the foreseeable future._

_She doesn't know what she is more afraid of, being sent away or the possibility that they could make Marissa disappear. That's really the worst part, because no matter how much it pains Summer to keep up a facade around everyone, no matter how often she reminds herself that what she is seeing isn't really Marissa, it's the closest she is ever going to get. She doesn't want to lose her again._

_(don't think about losing Seth instead)_

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"You seem really preoccupied today."

"I talked to Cohen last night."

"Did you call him or…"

"Yes. I thought about what you said, how I should at least tell him the truth about why I broke upwith him. You were right. I hated when he lied to me; I shouldn't do the same thing."

"How did the conversation go?"

"I'm not really sure. At first, he was mad because I had just disappeared without telling him where I was going, and I think he was still hurt because of the break up. But he listened, and then…"

"Were you able to tell him the truth? About Marissa and where you had disappeared to?"

"Yes. It was hard because, well, it's not exactly something I like to talk about. Plus, Cohen is supposed to be the freak in our relationship. And yes, I know I shouldn't think of myself like that, you don't have to tell me again."

"Well, it's nice to know that you hear me, even if you can't listen yet."

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Of course not. That would be unprofessional."

"Funny."

"Thanks. Now, back to more serious matters. What was it like to tell Seth? How did you feel about his reaction?"

"Actually, once I told him, I kinda felt better. He didn't freak out. Or well, he didn't freak out while we were talking, at least. Pretty sure Ryan will have to listen to an insanely long babble- marathon now, but he kept it together while we talked. I don't think he really understands, but I don't really get it yet, either, so I can't blame him for that."

"You are okay with the thought of him telling Ryan?"

"He tells Ryan everything. If I really didn't want Atwood to know, I wouldn't have told Seth."

"I see. Well, I am happy that talking about what happened with Seth turned out to be a good experience for you. It is good to know that you have people in your life that you can trust that way."

"Don't you think you're jumping the gun a little? We had one talk, and it was on the phone. I don't think that means Seth is suddenly back in my life."

"Was he ever really out of it? Summer, you remember how much it hurt you to tell me about the break up, and how much you missed him. Given that you thought about him that much, do you really think you could say he was out of your life?"

"I guess not. But…"

"But returning to a life that he was not a part of was a huge reason why you broke up?"

"Yes. Marissa…No, that's not really right, is it? I wanted that life back. Having Marissa tell me to do it just made it a little easier. And now…"

"Now?"

"I think I am finally accepting that I will never get that life back. But, it still hurts. And part of me…I'm not sure if I will ever accept it completely. It's frustrating, you know. To always have this stupid "on the one hand – on the other hand" on my mind."

"What are you feeling so ambivalent about today?"

"That means torn, right?"

"In this case, yes."

"I…all this talking we are doing all the time, it helped with the understanding part. I wish it would help as well with the feeling – part. I mean, I know that I will never get that life back. And I even know that there are things in my life now that I don't want to give up."

"Like Seth?"

"Yes. I mean, I am definitely not ready to date him again, but…I really missed him. And I do want him in my life. Hell, I even want to be friends with Atwood, for some weird reason. It's just that, whenever I get to this point, every time I think I have figured it out…"

"You feel guilty, because it seems to you like you're leaving Marissa behind."

"Our best time as friends was before Cohen and Atwood. I'm not saying it's their fault, I just…This is so stupid. I should be able to figure this out."

"There is nothing stupid about the way you feel. And experiencing guilt is very common after the death of a loved one. I realize that you would prefer being able to take a more rational approach to this situation, but Summer, you are a very passionate woman. In fact, I remember you talking about "rage black-outs" several times. As a young woman who feels that strongly, it would be very strange if you could simply turn off your emotions when dealing with this. And that's a good thing, because repressing your feelings would only serve to make things worse."

"So basically what you're saying is that feelings aren't supposed to make sense? At least not all the time? And probably, also, that I should accept it and try to deal with what I feel, instead of being mad at myself for feeling it?"

"Should I feel flattered that you are able to quote me? Seriously though, that's what it comes down to. And Summer? It is really great that you already manage to understand yourself so well. I know you may not always feel like it, but you really have made a lot of progress since you came here."

"Baby steps, right?"

"Right."

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_She finally loses it when, the next morning, Marissa is smiling at her as if nothing happened, as if she hadn't been sitting right next to her during the phone call, as if she hadn't told Summer to make the call, hadn't insisted that they need time for just the two of them, no boyfriend- distractions allowed._

_She is sitting there, smiling and when Summer halts at the sight, her only response is a suggestion to go shopping later._

_It's too much all of a sudden, too much after a night spent crying over the realization that she actually broke up with Cohen, ended it when they had finally, finally gotten their act together, all because of someone who isn't actually there._

_She is crazy; she is hallucinating all the time; she hasn't had an honest conversation with her dad ever since the first nightmare and it's just too much when Marissa is acting as if nothing happened._

_She doesn't even realize she is crying and yelling at the same time, not until suddenly her dad is there, asking who she is talking to, what is wrong, who is she talking to?_

_A part of her thinks that it figures. Of course the first time she actually talks to Marissa, demands an explanation for everything, why, why, why, her father has to come in and hear it._

_She can't look at him, hides her face against his chest as she breaks down, suddenly no longer able to hold it back, the truth spurting out of her between hiccups, tears and shuddering intakes of breath. Once she starts talking, it's as if the floodgates have been opened and she can't seem to stop. He doesn't ask any questions, just lets her talk. Only when she is done confessing all her lies, tearing apart the carefully constructed reasoning she had for keeping it secret, all her weaknesses open for him to see, does he say something again._

"_You are not crazy."_

_Her helpless laugh and the choked crying mix into a weird sound she can't define. Now he's the one who's lying._

"_Summer, I promise, I will do anything to help you get better."_

_After that, she doesn't remember much. An emergency meeting with a shrink (she thinks it might be Julie's but doesn't have the strength to ask), pills in various shapes and colors, a drawn out conversation about the best place for her to go, falling asleep in a haze of sleeping pills taken under her father's watchful eyes.._

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"Hey, Summer. How…Are you alright?"

"I really don't know."

"What happened?"

"Nothing. It's not really something that happened. I just, I was thinking and I realized that it's been four weeks."

"Since you last saw Marissa?"

"Yes. And that's like, supposed to be a good thing, right? I'm supposed to be happy that I am getting better, right?"

"You're not, and now you are mad at yourself for not reacting in a rational manner? Summer, I know I am repeating myself, but you need to stop having the expectations of yourself. I know letting go of what you think is the right way for things to work is hard, but until you manage to allow yourself to be weak every now and then, please listen to me. Feeling conflicted is absolutely normal, especially in a situation as complicated as this one."

"But why hasn't it changed yet? I mean, I told you weeks ago that I was afraid of her disappearing, we talked about it for hours, we spent forever discussing how I didn't want to let her go. And I know that I have to, that no illusion is going to give me my best friend back. Why isn't knowing that enough?"

"Because it hurts? Summer, real or not, Marissa was with you for several weeks after the accident. You spend time with her, she talked to you. Letting go of that means losing her for real. I am not surprised that a huge part of you doesn't want to do that. She was your best friend."

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_She goes to see the therapist every day, waiting for a bed to be free at what is supposedly the best clinic in San Diego. She doesn't want to go there, not really, because how is taking away the last bit of familiarity she has supposed to make anything better. Those people won't be able to change the fact that she is crazy. Nothing the shrink says convinces her otherwise. After all, the fact that she needs a shrink pretty much proves her point, doesn't it? At least she already gets some practice talking to him. The place they want to send her to believes in intensive therapy. She doesn't even want to think about having to talk to some stranger four hours a day._

_The shiny drugs her shrink prescribes for her actually do have an effect. The problem is that she still doesn't really want Marissa to leave, so not seeing her as often anymore leaves her feeling helpless, not better._

_(don't think about how much worse it is going to be when she is actually gone)_

_But then suddenly there is a free bed and before she knows it, a woman with a polite smile is showing her around the clinic_

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"Good morning, Summer."

"Morning, Doc."

"All packed?"

"Yes, everything - just waiting for my ride."

"Good. I like what you did with your nails."

"Thanks."

"Couldn't decide on one color?"

"I was tired of hot pink. I thought I'd try out all the others. Figure out what else suits me."

"Experimenting in healthy way. Always a good thing. So, I guess this is it."

"Yeah, I guess."

"How do you feel about leaving the clinic?"

"I'm not sure. I mean, I'm looking forward to seeing my dad again, but…"

"You're afraid?"

"Yes. What if it gets worse again? What if my subconscious decides I need a new imaginary friend?"

"You know, being able to joke about it is a really good sign."

"Yeah. But really, what if it does get worse? I know I'm going to be taking the meds for a while, but the dosage is going to be lowered, right? I don't know, I guess part of me doesn't want to leave until I feel like I am really okay again."

"What would it take for you to feel okay?"

"I don't really know. Not suddenly bursting into tears all the time would be a good start."

"Summer, grieving Marissa's death is going to take a lot of time. And it is always going to hurt. If we wait for that pain to go away, you are never going to get out of here."

"I know. But I still want the pain to stop."

"That is completely understandable. And as long as you don't tell yourself that you are supposed to be better, stressing yourself with useless expectations again, it is absolutely okay to feel that way. And regarding your other doubts: you have arranged to see a therapist twice a week. He or she will keep a close eye on the right dosage of the medication. And you can use that time to talk about everything that is on your mind. If you are in pain, you can talk about it. If you realize you are going back to blaming yourself, if you notice yourself avoiding people or places again, you can talk about it. That's what we all get paid for."

"I know. I guess it's just that I feel safe here. I'm afraid of giving that up. And please, don't tell me how great it is that I can admit I am afraid. I really don't want to hear it again."

"Okay, I won't. I suggest you try to concentrate on the positive aspects of going back. You are looking forward to sleeping in your own room again, aren't you?"

"Hell yes. And you have no idea how much I have missed my closet. I'll finally have an acceptable amount of clothing and shoes again."

"See, that's something. Is your father coming to pick you up?"

"Yes. Cohen wanted to come to, but I told him I'd see him when I'm back again."

"Something else you're looking forward to?"

"I…yes. I missed him. Talking to him every other night was nice. I don't think I can be in a relationship yet, but it's nice to know he's waiting for me."

"Did he say that?"

"He doesn't have to. He's never going to find someone better than me!"

"I am glad to see your confidence has returned."

"Yeah…Hey Doc?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for, you know, everything."

"You're welcome."

_**Feedback is still my drug of choice. I am not above begging, if it does the trick ;)**_


End file.
